


A Spark at Dawn

by toocleverfox



Series: A Flare in the Night [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 17 year old Johnny Storm, 17 year old Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Character Death, Peter Parker is Trans, it's not explicitly stated but it was in my other fic, just a tiny bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-07 06:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toocleverfox/pseuds/toocleverfox
Summary: If Peter closes his eyes, he can almost picture Johnny beside him. Can feel his breath in his ear, can feel his warmth radiating through the blankets. He hears Johnny breathing over the phone and it’s oddly soothing. From the address he sent, Peter knows Johnny’s only a few minutes away. Peter doesn’t have to imagine it. He can swing over to Johnny’s and be with his boyfriend.The thought alone makes him happier than he’s been in days.“Okay,” Peter says, clearing his throat. “I’m on my way.”In which Peter goes to Johnny for comfort after the events of Far From Home and they both learn to lean on each other in the small hours of the morning.





	A Spark at Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> You don't necessarily need to read A Flare in the Night to understand this, but I think they work better together.
> 
> Major spoilers for Far From Home!
> 
> Song title at end of fic.

_ “Oh, there is nowhere I would rather be _

_ Never felt more comfortable, could never want for more when I’m here _

_ Oh, there is nowhere I would rather be _

_ I never felt more comfortable, could never want for more when you’re near” _

Peter’s hands are shaking as he opens the contacts app. He’s in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar building and his phone tells him it’s two in the morning. His phone is the only light in the room and it vanishes when he puts it up to his ear.

“Come on, come on,” Peter chants quietly. He glances around the room, but it’s too dark to pick out any shapes. “Pick _ up_.” 

The ringing stops and a muffled voice comes through the speaker. “Pete? Is that you?” Johnny asks, voice raspy from sleep. 

During Peter’s trip to Europe, he’d never had time to FaceTime or call Johnny. He’d barely even had time for _ texting _ with everything that was happening. It was all too much and Peter had just wanted five minutes where he could talk to his boyfriend. He had been the only thing keeping Peter anchored throughout it all. 

He’s missed his voice so fucking much that he can’t help but start crying.

“Peter?” Johnny sounds frantic now. Peter hears movement in the background, like the other boy’s moving on his bed. “What’s wrong?” 

He tries to explain, but a sob slips out of him instead.

“Peter, please talk to me!” Johnny begs and Peter hears more shuffling in the background. “Are you in trouble? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” he chokes out. “Can I come over? Please, I just, I need-” Peter stops as his words get twisted up into another sob. 

“Okay, okay, it’s alright,” Johnny says gently. “Everything’s okay. Where are you right now?” 

He takes a few deep breaths before he answers. “Avengers Tower,” Peter gets out.

“Avengers Tower?” Johnny asks. He’s clearly puzzled and Peter can almost hear the thousands of questions running through Johnny’s mind. 

“I don’t want to explain it right now, can I just-”

“Sorry, sorry, of course,” Johnny cuts him off. “So you need to come over? To my house?” 

“Yeah, i-if that’s okay. I know your sister-”

“I’ll talk to Sue,” he says, cutting Peter off again. He sounds determined and Peter nods even though Johnny can’t see him. “She’ll understand.”

Peter knows it’s probably dangerous to go outside right now, but he desperately needs to see Johnny. He can understand better than anyone what Peter is going through. 

The line goes silent for a few seconds before Johnny speaks up again. “I just sent you my address. Look for the open window. That’s my room.”

Peter pulls his phone away from his ear to look at Johnny’s text. 

He reads the address twice before his eyes wander up to their previous text conversation, when Peter had arrived home from the airport. He’d texted Johnny, asking him if he wanted to hang out the following day. Johnny had agreed and told Peter they could go try those bread rolls he was so adamant about. 

But that was before. 

Before everything fell apart. 

Peter puts the phone back up to his ear. “Thank you,” he whispers, wiping his nose on the blanket. He would’ve felt gross about doing that if he wasn’t on the verge of crying his eyes out again. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Johnny whispers back. 

If Peter closes his eyes, he can almost picture Johnny beside him. Can feel his breath in his ear, can feel his warmth radiating through the blankets. He hears Johnny breathing over the phone and it’s oddly soothing. From the address he sent, Peter knows Johnny’s only a few minutes away. Peter doesn’t _ have _to imagine it. He can swing over to Johnny’s and be with his boyfriend.

The thought alone makes him happier than he’s been in days.

“Okay,” Peter says, clearing his throat. “I’m on my way.”

“Okay,” Johnny replies. He hadn’t spoken for awhile, as if he knew Peter needed a moment to collect himself. “If I’m not in my room by the time you get here, come in anyway. I might still be talking to Sue.” Peter makes a noise of acknowledgement and Johnny adds, “stay safe.”

“Okay. See you in a few.”

Peter hangs up and lets the phone fall beside him onto the bed. Without the sound of Johnny’s breathing, the silence in the room is suffocating. He slips out of bed, not wishing to spend another minute in a building full of ghosts. He turns on a small lamp on the bedside table, illuminating the room in a white glow. It’s too bright for the hour, too bright for everything Peter is feeling and all he wants is to fall into a deep sleep and not wake up for a long, long time. Well not _ too _long, just until the world forgets who he is. 

He moves toward the end of the bed and crouches down to rummage through his suitcase. He had thrown it together in a hurry when Aunt May had told him where they were going. He searches through it and pulls out a binder, a hoodie, and some sweatpants. Peter glances over at his suit, bunched up on the floor by the farthest wall. He had hurled it in a fit of rage after he’d taken it off, crying and cursing before Aunt May had rushed into the room and calmed him down. 

He glares at it, wishing it would just burst into flames. 

_ Maybe Johnny could arrange that,_ he thinks bitterly. _ What’s the point in even wearing the suit anymore after everything that’s happened? _

Peter turns away, snatches up his phone and turns off the lamp, shrouding the room in darkness again. He enters the hallway and looks first to his left, then his right. It’s quiet and dark, only a few shapes outlined by the light of some electrical appliances scattered around. He turns on his phone flashlight and points it down the hall to his right. He’s never been in the Avengers Tower before, but Happy had tried to explain the layout when he and Aunt May had arrived. It seemed that the only way to get to the top was by the elevator. 

So Peter heads toward it.

He can hear the low hum of the air conditioning as he makes his way farther into the tower. He averts his eyes whenever he sees pictures of Mr. Stark scattered around. Picture frames filled with images of him with Ms. Potts, with War Machine, with Happy, with Dr. Bruce Banner. 

He quickens his pace. He doesn’t need another reason to be more upset than he already is. 

It’s just so_ empty_. And silent, as if the building is holding its breath until its occupants return.

But Peter knows very well that they never will.

After about two minutes, he finds the elevator. It’s at the end of the hallway and Peter pushes what he assumes is the button for the roof. When the doors open, he enters and moves to the back wall, slumping against it. It’s silent as the numbers climb up and he breathes out a small “thank you” that the elevator doesn’t make any noise. He’s left to his own thoughts and he can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen tomorrow. For now, it’s like he’s in some kind of cocoon, hidden away from curious eyes. But Peter knows that when the sun rises in a few hours, it will shatter the shelter he’s made in the small bedroom of the Avengers Tower.

When the elevator comes to a stop, Peter takes a deep breath and steps out. He walks past a couch and what appears to be a bar, eyes sweeping over to the other end of the top floor. He gasps silently at the sight. Unlike the other floors, this level has some kind of deck sticking out, stretching into the open air. He inches closer to the edge, stomach in knots. He doesn’t know if the feeling’s from the elevator or the millions of city lights shining up at him. He can barely see the horizon, the lights go on for as far as he can see. 

He moves over to the edge and sits down hard. He dangles one leg over the city and pulls the other up to his chest. He rests his chin on his knee and breathes in the scent of the city, its glow lighting up the sky, blocking out the stars. 

He has to admit, he’s hurt looking at it. He almost wishes it would all just burn down. He wills it to change, wills it to _ do _ something, but all the city does is stare back. It moves like some kind of living thing, with its lights and scents and sounds. It feels like millions of people are watching Peter and something in him breaks a little.

He’s always felt so free swinging through New York. It made me happy, it _ thrilled _ him. 

But everything’s changed and now the sight of the city makes him _ frightened _ and _ angry_, things his home has never made him feel before.

He tries not to imagine what everyone below him is thinking about. If he thinks about it too much he’ll start to cry. He can’t breakdown again, not yet. He needs to see Johnny first.

He makes Peter feel more like himself than he’s ever felt around another person before. 

With the thought of seeing his boyfriend, Peter takes out his phone and clicks on the address Johnny sent him. It’s not too far away and he easily memorizes the area it’s in and how to get there. He tucks his phone away and takes one last look at the city. 

It stares back at him, shimmering in the dark.

If he looks at it long enough, it almost seems like it’s winking. 

Peter stands up, pulls the hood of his jacket over his head and leaps off the building. 

As he falls, he holds his arms out wide and shuts his eyes. He can hear the wind whistling past his ears and he feels oddly calm. He doesn’t think about anything, just breathes deeply as he slowly opens his eyes to watch the lights and colors dance around him. It’s like he’s sinking into a sea of hundreds of hues wrapping around him. It’s like he’s floating and he doesn’t want the feeling to go away.

But he knows the ground is coming up to meet him and even though he’s had an awful day, an awful _ few weeks_, he doesn’t really want to become a human pancake.

So he flicks his wrist and shoots out a web. It latches onto a nearby building and he swings up and out into the city. He has a visual image of the directions to the Baxter Building in his head and it’s easy enough to make his way there. As he swings, he makes sure to stay in the darker parts of the city where he can’t be spotted. He might not be wearing his suit, but someone would easily be able to put two and two together if they saw some guy swinging through New York.

After a few minutes, Peter spots the building in the distance and picks up the pace, wanting to see Johnny as soon as he can. He lands on top of a nearby roof and scans the Baxter Building for any sign of an open window. The building is dark, most of the glass windows reflecting the city lights, but there’s one window that looks less dark than the others, like someone has a light on. Peter jumps off the building and swings closer, landing on the side of the building, next to the window. It’s open ever so slightly and there’s a small glow emitting from inside, like a bedside lamp has been left on. He crawls over to the window and slowly pushes it up, focused on not losing his grip and falling. He eases himself onto the window ledge and almost loses his hold when he comes face to face with Johnny.

He’s in a white shirt, pajama pants and his hair is disheveled, most likely from tossing in his sleep. He’s sitting on his knees, his hands gripping the ledge and he’s facing the window, as if he was just waiting for Peter to come crawling in. His eyes are wide and he’s staring at Peter, mouth slightly open.

Peter hasn’t seen him for three _ weeks_. He’s missed him so much, and the ache in his ribs tightens as his eyes search Johnny’s face, drinking him in. When he was halfway across the world, Johnny was the one thing that had kept him grounded. Peter doesn’t know how to explain it, just that Johnny is like some kind of beacon for him and it’s a little terrifying how much Peter cares for the other boy.

He doesn’t think he loves him, not yet, but he also doesn’t think he’s that far off.

Johnny’s eyebrows fall and a fond smile appears on his face.

_ Peter _did that. He made Johnny look like the sun was rising early. The look on his face has Peter’s chest warming.

“Hey,” Johnny breathes out, and that’s all it takes.

Like Johnny is pulling on some invisible string that’s wrapped around Peter’s heart, he feels himself fall forward.  
And Johnny’s there to catch him.

He collects Peter in his arms and eases him from the window ledge, whispering into Peter’s ear as he lets out a sob against Johnny’s neck.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. I’ve got you, it’s okay,” Johnny repeats as he maneuvers Peter into his bed. He tucks Peter under the covers and pulls them up around him. Peter curls up into a ball, hands pressed against his chest, eyes slowly filling with tears. He doesn’t have the strength to tell Johnny what’s wrong, but he knows if he was in Johnny’s position he’d want to know why his boyfriend came to his house at two in the morning, crying.

Johnny runs his hands through Peter’s hair and he breathes deeply. The bed smells just like Johnny and Peter’s heart clenches.

Johnny pulls his hand back and Peter cracks open an eye to look up at him. He’s smiling warmly at Peter, but Peter can see worry clouding his face. “I’m just going to let Sue know you’re here and then I’ll be back,” he says. “Promise.”

Peter nods and Johnny reaches under the covers to squeeze his hand quickly before he gets up and leaves his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

It’s quiet for a moment and Peter closes his eyes. He can hear muffled voices coming from the other side of the wall. He hopes he didn’t get Johnny into trouble by coming here. He did ask him if it was okay, but what if he had just said that because he felt bad for Peter? 

Coming here was a mistake, he thinks. He doesn’t need Johnny, he’s fine. He just needs to go to bed, that’s all. Maybe swinging through the city cleared his mind and he’ll be able to sleep now.

Peter slips out from the covers and climbs on top of Johnny’s bed, moving on his knees toward the window.

It’ll be fine. He’ll just swing back to the tower and pretend like nothing happened. When he gets back he’ll text Johnny and tell him he feels better and just had a nightmare or something.

He has his hands on the window sill when the bedroom door opens. Peter spins around to find Johnny standing in the doorway.

He’s frowning at Peter, lips pulled into a tight line. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I… I was,” Peter stumbles, slowly lowering his hands from the window. “I was going to leave.”

Johnny crosses his arms. “I can see that,” he says dryly. “But_ why?”_

“I didn’t want to bother you,” he mumbles, not meeting his eyes.

Johnny’s shoulders drop and he uncrosses his arms. “Oh,” he says, like everything suddenly makes sense. What is that supposed to mean? It seems like Johnny has him all figured out and it makes Peter flush in embarrassment. “You’re not bothering me,” Johnny says, eyebrows furrowed. “You-”

“It’s two in the fucking morning, Johnny,” Peter snaps, face burning from the pitying look Johnny’s giving him. “I think that definitely counts as bothering someone.”

Johnny sighs and closes the door behind him, moving toward the bed. He holds out his hand for Peter, who takes it and looks down at the floor. He guides Peter back under the covers, this time slipping in beside Peter. The other boy smiles shyly as he gets comfortable in the bed. They’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

The lamp on the bedside table isn’t very bright, it’s dim and seems as if the light bulb hasn’t been changed in years. It casts a small halo around Johnny’s blonde hair and Peter finds it surprisingly comforting. Maybe because it gives off just enough light that it’s still relatively dark, but not dark enough that he can’t see Johnny watching him, eyes full of something Peter can’t place.

Peter goes to say something, but Johnny cuts him off.

“Before you say anything,” Johnny says quickly. “Let me speak first.”

Johnny waits for his permission so Peter nods, letting him speak.

“I know…” Johnny clears his throat and shifts, propping his head up on one hand and using the other to entwine his fingers with Peter’s. “I know how scary it can be to tell someone how you feel, to come to them with all your emotions laid bare.” He runs his thumb over Peter’s knuckles and Peter suppresses a shiver. “I want you to be able to trust me,” he continues. “I want you to know that you can come and talk to me whenever something is bothering you. Wouldn’t you want me to do the same?” Johnny asks, looking away from their joined hands to wait for Peter’s answer.

Peter frowns and his grip on Johnny’s hand tightens. “_Of course._”

Johnny gives him a small smile and continues, voice low. “I get that you’re scared, I really do. But I want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid to talk to me, okay?”

Peter trusts Johnny so much, but it’s terrifying for him to have Johnny see him at his most vulnerable. He knows it’s a good thing that he’s able to be himself around the other boy, but it’s something he’s not used to.

Peter looks down at their hands. “I’ll keep that in mind, but it might take me awhile to be comfortable with it.”

“Okay,” Johnny says and brings Peter’s hand up to his mouth and lays a gentle kiss on it. “As long as you know.”

Peter blushes and buries himself deeper into the bed. “I do. Just… just be patient with me.”

Johnny nods. “Okay.” 

Peter doesn’t understand how he got so lucky. Johnny truly is a ray of sunshine and he thinks whatever force controls the universe gave him fire powers because they just had to match his warm heart. 

God, he feels awful for yelling at Johnny.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, I’m just, I’m so _ angry _ and _ scared _ and-”

“Hey, it’s alright,” the other boy cuts him off, squeezing his hand.

Peter pulls his hand out of Johnny’s grasp. He shakes his head against the mattress. 

“It’s _ not_,” Peter insists. “I had no right to yell at you.”

“Okay, fair point, but I get it, okay?” Johnny says, watching Peter like he’s a wild animal ready to bolt. “Sometimes we can’t control how we feel.”

Peter sighs and looks away. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right,” Johnny jokes, obviously trying to get Peter to crack a smile.

It works and Peter huffs out a small laugh, looking back at him. Johnny’s mouth quirks up in the corner and he pulls Peter against his chest, resting his chin on Peter’s head.

Peter feels safe in Johnny’s arms. If he closes his eyes and listens to the sound of his heartbeat, Peter can almost forget what’s happening outside. 

That is, until Johnny opens his mouth.

“So,” Johnny starts, drawing out the vowel. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Peter doesn’t respond. He tries to figure out how he can put it gently, but no matter how he phrases it, it makes him want to gag. Johnny shifts against his side and Peter’s mind is whirling. Might as well tell him sooner rather than later. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, but-”

“They know,” Peter whispers, interrupting him. He buries his face into Johnny’s chest, squeezing his eyes closed and gripping the front of his shirt. “They all know.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything and Peter prays he didn’t hear him, but he knows he did. He moves away from Peter and his eyes search Peter’s face. He’s frowning, clearly confused. “What? What are talking about?”

Peter could leave right now. He could climb out of Johnny’s bed and go back to the Avengers Tower. Johnny doesn’t deserve to have Peter’s problems dumped on him, but he remembers Johnny’s words.

If Johnny had gone through the same thing he had, he would want Johnny to lean on him.

But still, as he looks at Johnny, this beautiful, golden boy, he wishes he didn’t have to tell him.

“The whole world knows I’m Spider-Man.” 

Johnny’s face pales instantly and his mouth falls open. “Pete, I don’t, I don’t understand,” he whispers, like the walls are fragile and if he speaks too loudly they’ll crumble.

Or maybe he thinks Peter will.

He’s not entirely sure Johnny’s wrong in thinking that.

But he deserves to know.

Peter tells him everything. How he foolishly thought he could go on vacation without worrying, how he thought he could trust Mysterio, how everything fell apart and how he’s now framed for murder.

“He messed with my head,” Peter explains as Johnny rubs his thumb in circles on the back of his hand. It’s grounding. “He made illusions that were just so _ real_. He made it seem as if I was standing in front of Mr. Stark’s grave and then he crawled out of it and he was a skeleton. It was, shit, it was horrible.” Peter’s shaking at this point but he keeps going. “I didn’t tell him about you because I know you’re not out, b-but I know that if I had told him about you, he would’ve used you against me. I just, _ fuck_,” he curses, and it morphs into a whimper. He keeps talking, a few tears slipping down his face. “I don’t know who to trust anymore. I don’t even know if this is real! What if Mysterio is still messing with my head? What if this is all made up?” he yells and pushes himself away from Johnny, sitting up with his knees drawn up to his chest. 

Johnny watches him, waiting. 

Peter swallows. “How do I know you’re real?” 

Johnny’s expression breaks and he makes some kind of noise in the back of his throat. He moves forward, but hesitates, wanting to know if it’s okay to touch him. Peter wipes a stray tear and nods, letting Johnny know it’s alright. He drags Peter in for a hug, arms tight around his back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeats in Peter’s ear. He’s crying, gripping onto Peter like he never wants to let him go. “This _ is _real, Pete, I swear.”

It’s the way Johnny says it that makes Peter shatter. He sounds so hurt and desperate, like he wants to take all the pain away from him. Peter digs his fingers into Johnny’s shirt and sobs into his neck. He lets his tears fall and realizes just how exhausted and burnt out he is. 

“I wish I could have helped you,” Johnny whispers in his ear. “I should’ve been there.”

Peter leans back and sits down, knees tucked under him. He looks earnestly at Johnny and shakes his head. “This was my fight, not yours.”

“I care about you, Peter,” Johnny insists. “You shouldn’t have had to fight him all on your own.”

Peter shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

Johnny’s frown deepens and he reaches for Peter’s hand, holding his fingers. “I hate that you think like that.”

Peter just shrugs again, looking down at their hands. “I’ve been fighting bad guys on my own for awhile now. You get used to it.”

“But the thing is, you don’t _ have _to do it alone anymore,” assures Johnny, causing Peter to look back up at him. He’s smiling softly at Peter, his hair glowing in the dim light of the lamp behind him. “You have me. And the rest of the Fantastic Four if you want.”

And well… Peter hadn’t thought about it like that. He can lean on others now. He doesn’t have to fight villains alone. He could ask Johnny, and Johnny could bring his family to help. It’s too good to be true, after doing everything on his own for so long, that Peter doesn’t know what to say, just leans into Johnny’s chest again, wrapping his arms around his back and burying his head in his shoulder. 

Johnny brings his hand up to card through Peter’s hair and puts his other on the small of his back. Peter’s eyes droop as Johnny’s hands play with his hair, gently scraping his scalp. 

“Okay,” Peter murmurs against him.

“Okay?” Johnny questions.

“If I need help, I’ll ask.”

“Promise?”

Peter nods against him. “Promise.”

He slumps into Johnny’s chest and closes his eyes, sighing deeply. 

“Come on,” Johnny says, helping him back under the covers. “We should sleep.”

“How did you not hear about any of this?” Peter asks around a yawn as Johnny turns off the light and lies down beside him.

He makes himself comfortable before he answers. He moves his pillow closer to Peter’s and sighs when he rests his head on it. “Well,” he starts, “I knew about all the fights and stuff since they were on the news, but I never heard about your secret identity being revealed.” Johnny frowns. Peter’s never liked how that looks on his face. “When did that happen?”

Peter shrugs. “I think it was around seven last night,” he informs Johnny, trying not to recall the moment he found out.

“Oh, that explains it. I was out with my friends and their friends all day, and then I flew around the city a little and came home.” Johnny clears his throat. ‘I, um, I went to bed early so the morning would come faster and I’d get to see you sooner,” he admits sheepishly. 

For the first time in days, Peter cracks a smile. “Really?” he asks.

Johnny nods, not meeting his eyes.

Peter snorts. “You _ dork_.”

“Hey,” he pouts. “I was just excited to see my boyfriend, no shame in that.”

Peter’s smile turns soft and he moves closer to Johnny. “Yeah, no shame in that.”

Johnny grins and wraps his arms around Peter, pulling him in so he’s flush against his chest.

“Tell me something good,” Peter says quietly. “Did you come out to your family? You never texted me about it.”

Peter feels Johnny flinch and he frowns. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up. Did something happen? Wouldn’t Johnny have texted him if something bad had occurred?

“I, uh, I haven’t told them yet,” Johnny admits. 

Peter almost sighs in relief, but realizes something must be wrong if the question made Johnny upset. It’s quiet for a moment, and Peter thinks that’s all Johnny’s going to say.

But then he drops his cheek onto Peter’s head and says, “I’m scared, Peter. I feel like I’m always going to be too scared.” 

Oh.

Well, that’s something Peter understands.

Johnny’s voice dips, and Peter strains to hear him. “When will I stop feeling so fucking _ scared?”_ he whispers, his grip on Peter tightening. He takes in a ragged breath and lets go of Peter, wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I was supposed to be cheering you up and I-”

Peter sits up, cutting him off, and looks at Johnny, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “Johnny, it’s okay, don’t apologize. I want you to lean on me as much as I lean on you. When something’s eating you up I want you to talk to me, okay?” 

Johnny nods, but the tears keep falling. “I _ know _they won’t be mad, but I’m still freaked out about it. It’s so dumb to be scared about this when people are going through so much worse.”

“No, no, Johnny, _ babe_,” Peter consoles, holding his face in his hands so Johnny has to look at him. “You have every right to feel this way. Someone also going through something shouldn’t be used to downplay your own feelings. _ Everyone _is going through something and we all deal with it in our own way.”

Johnny looks at Peter, eyes wide and a fresh tear slips down his cheek. Peter’s there to wipe it away with his thumb. Johnny breaks eye contact and looks down at where their knees are touching. “It’s just, when the world is saying there’s something wrong with you, it’s kind of hard not to think so too,” he says, voice hoarse. 

Peter’s heart twists and he shakes his head. “There is absolutely _ nothing _ wrong with you. It takes time to accept who you are, I _ get _ that. But you’re surrounded by people who love you no matter what, Johnny. You don’t have to hold all this hurt inside.” He pulls his hands away from Johnny’s face and grabs his hands instead, bringing them up to his lips and lightly kissing them, like what Johnny had done for him earlier. “You’re a hero, Johnny. It doesn’t matter what the rest of the world thinks. Your family and friends are all you need and we’re here for you.” He rubs his thumb over Johnny’s knuckles, causing the other boy to look at him. “You might be a human fireball,” Peter says, “but trust me when I say there is _ nothing _wrong with you. Nothing at all.” 

Johnny gives him a watery smile and this time Peter pulls him in for a hug. He runs his fingers through his blonde hair as Johnny rests his forehead against his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

Johnny pulls back and huffs out a small laugh, some of his old self peeking through. “Using my own words against me?”

Peter shrugs. “You were the one who told me to accept other people’s help.”

“I guess it’s easier to give people advice than follow your own,” he responds. His smile drops. “I still… I still don’t know when I’ll come out.”

“That’s fine,” Peter says. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. You don’t owe anyone anything. You could come out tomorrow or you could not come out at all. It’s up to you.” Peter smiles and flops down onto the bed, pulling Johnny down with him. _ Amen for super strength_, he thinks. “You don’t need to worry, it’ll be alright. I know it will,” he says as he holds Johnny in his arms.

He doesn’t respond, just clings tighter to Peter and breathes out a sigh.

“Now tell me something good, dork,” Peter says.

That pulls a laugh out of Johnny and Peter counts it as a win.

Johnny thinks for a minute and then looks up at him, face slowly lighting up. Peter can’t help but grin back at him. He wishes there was nothing in this world that would make Johnny upset. Peter missed this version of him too much.

“Oh, yeah! Alright, so, I was out with Sue shopping, right?” He waits for Peter to hum in acknowledgement before continuing. “And we were at Target and I got...” He pauses and looks at Peter. “Drum roll please!” 

Peter rolls his eyes, but taps Johnny’s arm with his fingers to imitate drums.

“These!” Johnny exclaims and pulls the covers away from his legs.

“Oh my god,” Peter gasps. “How did I not notice those?” he laughs and bends closer to look at Johnny’s pajamas. 

They’re dark blue all over, with Spider-Man’s face scattered around in red. It looks like they were made for children, but Johnny’s beaming so hard that Peter supposes it doesn’t matter.

“They make Spider-Man pajamas!” Johnny exclaims, as if it wasn’t obvious. “How awesome is that?”

“Pretty awesome,” Peter agrees, laughing. “Should I get matching Human Torch ones?”

Johnny’s eyes light up, _ literally_, and he bounces up and down, shaking the bed. “Please, _ oh my god_! Do they make those?”

Peter laughs again and puts his hand on Johnny’s arm to get him to stop moving. “I don’t know, but they should.”

Johnny hums in agreement and settles down, pulling the covers back over him. His smile fades into a yawn. “What time is it?” he asks as he turns over and reaches for his phone on the nightstand. He holds it above him and frowns. Peter can’t tell if it’s from the bright light or if he’s gotten message from someone.

“Everything okay?” Peter asks.

Johnny nods. “My friends saw the news and texted me.” He sets his phone down and turns back to Peter, pulling the covers up around his chin. “It’s late… Or early I guess. We should try and get some sleep.”

Peter nods and scoots forward, putting his head under Johnny’s chin.

It’s quiet in the room, but it’s not the same quiet as the room back at the Avengers Tower. Rather than the hum of the air conditioning, Peter has Johnny’s breathing to lull him to sleep. It’s soothing, but his mind is still racing.

“I don’t know what I’ll do,” he whispers to Johnny.

About the world knowing he’s Spider-Man. 

About Aunt May’s and his friends’ safety. 

About school and college and all that comes after. 

About _ everything_. 

Johnny wraps his arms around him, holding him close. “We’ll figure it out together.”

All the anxious thoughts flying around in Peter’s mind finally still, and he relaxes into Johnny’s embrace.

The sun’s slowly rising in the bedroom’s large windows and Peter closes his eyes, knowing that no matter what happens, they’ll have each other.

And they’ll be okay.

_ “(I can’t remember, I can’t remember... _

_ Help me piece it all together, darlin’)” _

\- 4am by Bastille

**Author's Note:**

> I might add on to this series if I can weave both Peter and Johnny into the next Spider-Man movie(s) or any other MCU movie(s), but for now this is the end.  
Thanks for reading!


End file.
